


vas a coronar la diosa

by purplesealion2



Category: Football RPF, Real Madrid RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Champions League, La Decima, Lowercase, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:17:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1973817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesealion2/pseuds/purplesealion2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place just after the final of the Champions League 2014 when Real Madrid wins La Decima.</p>
            </blockquote>





	vas a coronar la diosa

it was suffocating.

he felt like a child, just a kid coming up the stairs. the trophy was too big and too heavy. the man on his side was gigantic. the crowd... you couldn't see the end of it. so many voices. so many cries of joy. it was unimaginable.

and there she was. what a goddess! it took his breath way.

_la diosa._

he knew what was coming next. iker has talked to him on the plane. they tried out a semi quiet place in the seats on the back. people were everywhere and they kept eyeing them, calling out their capitans. sergio could barely notice it. so anxious about whatever iker had to say to him.

"there are no words to thank you for this."

it took him out of his skull. of all people, iker was the one who personally taught him no match was defined by one man alone. how many chances have they wasted for having 11 individuals players on the field and not a team?

"it wasn't me. please.. don't do that." sergio mumbled. “you know I can’t”.

"look at me." his captain demanded. "don't be afraid to take the credit for your actions. if not all this, you gotta admit…  you did save my ass."

sergio laughed at that. oh, captain, he thought. and suddenly his head burned a little where the ball had touched.

"but I do need you to do one more thing for me." iker said. "just one more."

it was funny because it wasn't even remotely truth. iker needed sergio to do a lot of things still. there were all their future just ahead of them and god knows Sergio wouldn't want to stop at La Decima. there were trophies and trophies he would like to win by iker’s side and for that his capitan needed him to be strong and responsible. for that, iker needed sergio to push his mind in front of his heart since he was all emotions and no rationality. for all that, iker needed sergio to be a better man. but maybe it was Sergio who needed it the most.

one way or another, there was only one thing he could say to any request iker might do: "name it."

and that was exactly what he said. Without a chill or doubting iker would only demand greatness from him. but nothing could have prepared Sergio for what iker said next. he had pictured it, a million times, of course. just not this night. just not for that trophy.

_"vas a coronar a la diosa."_

and there he was. in the middle of Cibeles Plaza, a “ _Orejona_ ” in one hand, all the love of the world in his heart.

of course he denied it. he said he couldn’t and that it wasn’t fair. he said that belonged to iker, he said he had no right. he said a million things. most of all he nodded no over and over again, shaking like a baby, divided by the excitement of it and the feeling he just wasn’t supposed to.

it was just… iker got really serious. he looked him in the eyes and said he wasn't asking, he was telling Sergio to do it. he was the captain after all so Sergio should show some respect. that sounded truly pathetic to Sergio ears. then iker just said one more thing that got Sergio thinking, considering it. that made Sergio allow himself to picture it for real, just this once.

“if you don’t do this tonight, will you ever deserve it like you do right now?” he asked. “ ** _vamos_** ”. _Come on._

“it’s your right to do it”, Sergio said. “to me, you were the one who made it all possible”.

“so I guess you owe me that much”. iker smirked. “that’s stupid, I shouldn’t been trying to convince you to crown her.”

Sergio felt iker’s hand touching his thigh shyly just above his knee. he tried not to look around because he knew it would restrain iker even more than he normally was but Sergio had his worries too, he couldn’t help it. he just checked to see if anyone could spot the intimate touch. surprisingly enough, the grip got stronger and iker caressed the outside of his thigh with his thumb.

“do it, sergio. I have done it. I know my role.” iker said. “but now I want to see you do it. crown her for me.”

Sergio’s lips were burning with the urge to kiss him. he let tears he wasn’t even aware he’s been fighting wet his face and realized that was a good moment to just hug iker. just hide himself in the corner of his neck. his lips softly touched his skin not even kissing, just finding room in a particular curve as he sobbed. “I was so scared”, he said suffocated in that small space, getting the scent of iker’s skin as he held him closer. “We are living a dream.”

Iker patched his head, touched the back of his neck, and calmed him down in a way only he could have. “We are, Sese. We really are.”

and now that feeling seemed nothing but a memory. a small and unfair prelude to the real dream. how could it not, in front of such a crowd? how could it not as he let the big trophy in the hands of his dear friend and walked that few steps separating him of their goddess?

Iker touched his hand as he held the cup properly. it was only a soft touch but it got them sharing a look and that was as heavy as it could be. in one gaze all their history, all their past. all the pain they have been through and gotten out stronger. everything they’ve taught one another. how iker taught him, made him, sculpted him into a greater man. into a man that could now be an honored part of a history. of the great history of Real Madrid.

then he faced that marble skull and crown of the sculpture in front of him. the back of the head of Cibeles, la diosa. all sorts of images crossed his mind. the _kzillion_ times he had seen a captain do that. thank god for all that titles, now they had a ritual and he knew what to do.

but even if he hadn’t seen a thing, something inside of him knew exactly how to act. exactly where to step, where to touch _la diosa_. it was like he had done this in another life. like he was born to _coronar la diosa_.

as if he was born to be a madridista. a merengue.

first flag around her neck and then he looked at iker just to be sure it was ok. he handed him another one, his one. somehow it felt even an greater honor. it could have been for the look in his eyes. iker didn’t need to say it: he was proud.

in that moment, that small Sergio faded away. for his glaze, Sergio felt as he truly became the great man iker always said he was. there are no words to that, he thought. there were no words to thank iker for that.

it wasn’t so much as for making _la diosa muy guapa_. or for his face on magazines. or the money, or the trophy, or the crowd.

it wasn’t really about that tenth ‘Orejona’ in his mates hands. the real reason was that somewhere along the way iker proved him wrong – and thank him for that.

he kissed _la diosa_ tenderly. as if thanking her for that as well. it was undeniable a powerful force had changing the curse of fate to allow him to follow his destiny. so many odds and still… he was there. then he touch her cold marble cheek and chin, cherished her. and his mind out of his own control thanked god for that.

iker handed him the trophy and he lift it, his mind a blank as all those people screamed. all of them with their hopes and dreams sharing one passion.

no much could he say about what Real Madrid truly was. it was everything he was himself but how do you put it down in words? he looked around and saw Real Madrid written all over the city. such a glory.

it’s history – that’s what it is. and now he’s a part of it. a part of all he is inside.

he looked back, saw iker and went down to get him. he wanted him on the top right now. he wanted himself to have this vision.

iker stood by his side and lift the trophy himself.

something on his face was hurting and he realized it was his undying smile. he wasn’t even aware of it but he couldn’t help it. he stepped down and saw the back of the 2012 La Liga jersey as Iker still held the cup up, tears wetting his eyes as he hold them back.

and that’s when he realized why he had became a that greater man.

he’s had a hell of an example.


End file.
